


Impromptu Duet

by thesadchicken



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deep Dish Nine, Deep Dish Nine - Alternate Universe, F/F, First Meeting, First Times, How They Met, Music, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-18 22:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8177885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesadchicken/pseuds/thesadchicken
Summary: A beautiful voice seeps through Christine Chapel's window. Set in ladyyatexel's Deep Dish Nine universe. Written for 'Chahura Week 2016'.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed! Please forgive any mistakes.

Christine wiggles her toes out of her bright blue flip-flops and places her legs on the stool in front of her. A light breeze strikes through the open window, sending her papers twirling across the room and making shadows dance on the hardwood floor.

It’s a sunny summer day and she has the afternoon off. She won’t call anybody to make plans; she doesn’t really feel like going out. Here, in the coziness of her little third-floor apartment, she can relax – perhaps read a book, take a long nap, curl her toes up on the couch and watch a movie. It’s only an afternoon, but it feels like a two-month vacation, and Christine wants to make the most of it.

She reclines back on her chair and stretches her tired limbs. The kettle whines in the kitchen, but Christine doesn’t move. She takes in the cool summer air. She enjoys the sun on her skin for a moment. Just as she sighs contentedly and starts to push herself off the chair, music trickles in between the lavender curtains – a jazzy tune, a catchy melody and soft words muttered by a crystalline clear voice. Christine stops and listens.

_‘Summertime, and the livin' is easy_

_Fish are jumpin' and the cotton is high’_

The kettle howls in the kitchen. Christine hurries to the stove and turns it off. She grabs a mug, pours the water in it and runs back to the window. The music is still drifting in the air. The song is still filling the room.

_‘One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing_

_And you'll spread your wings and you'll take to the sky’_

Christine leans onto the windowsill and peaks out. A cat is curled up in a ball and sleeping in the shade on the sidewalk. Young Pavel is crossing the street, tugging at the beanie he insists on wearing be it winter or summer. Jim Kirk’s car is parked a few meters away from the apartment building. No sign of the singer.

_‘But 'til that morning, there ain't nothin can harm you_

_So hush little baby, don't you cry’_

Such tenderness! Christine is almost melting right onto the floor. She listens carefully, fingertips tapping in rhythm with the song. She leans further out the window, closes her eyes and starts to hum along shyly. The singer, whoever they are, seems to notice. They stop for a small breathless second, and Christine is left humming alone. Then the singing starts again, louder now. It seems to Christine that the limpid voice is tinted with amusement. It feels like they’re having a conversation, the singer and her. Christine smiles to herself and keeps on humming, louder and louder, forgetting about her raspy singing voice and her shyness. Soon they’re repeating musical sentences at each other, echoing the other’s improvisations. They must sound awfully silly to anyone walking past the building, but to Christine, they sound like humming birds.

A piercing electronic sound interrupts their musical conversation. Christine pauses, startled. The intruding sound stops just as the same clear, deep voice says, “Hello? Uhura here, who is this?”

Uhura. The new neighbor who moved in two weeks ago. She works in communications – what exactly she does, Christine has no idea – and lives on the second floor.

“Well,” Uhura continues, addressing an invisible interlocutor.

She’s obviously on the phone, and it seems like her voice reaching Christine’s apartment isn’t entirely an accident, “I don’t know, I’m a bit busy right now…”

Does she _want_ Christine to hear this? Is that why her voice is unnaturally loud? “Listen, I was kinda in the middle of a conversation before you called.”

Yes! Yes she does. And it’s childish, really, but it makes Christine’s heart race. Uhura keeps talking. “Someone you don’t know.” There’s a smile in her voice. “My neighbor, I think.”

Christine slips her feet back into her flip-flops. She runs to the mirror, fluffs her hair up, grabs a denim jacket from the closet, pockets her keys and runs downstairs. When Christine reaches the second floor Uhura’s door opens and a beautiful young woman steps out of the apartment. She’s wearing a light yellow dress and holding a tiny purple handbag.

“Hi,” Christine smiles.

Uhura looks up, falsely surprised. “Hello.” Her fringe falls into her eyes; she keeps batting it away with her hand.

“Heading out?” Christine asks, nodding at Uhura’s handbag.

“Oh,” the young woman’s dark cheeks are turning deep red, “no, not really”

“I was wondering – I mean, if you have the time – and, you know, if you want to. Um, would you like to join me for a cup of tea? I’ve got some brewing upstairs.”

Uhura’s smile is positively radiant. “I’d love to.”

“Great,” Christine bites her lower lip in delight, “Um, Uhura, right?”

The young woman leans in conspiratorially. “My first name is Nyota,” she says. It sounds like a secret. Christine wants to keep it forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably write a sequel to this sometime. I really love these two in this universe.


End file.
